The Beautiful One
by fluppy
Summary: Rosalie's story from just after she was attacked. Rated M for themes, later violence as she revenges herself. Eventual lemons of course. Sometimes you just want to know EXACTLY what went on. UPDATED CHAPTER 8
1. Bruised, Broken And Burned

Let me die now. Please, God, end this. I hurt, everywhere. What is left of my clothes hangs in tattered strips off my battered and bruised body. Every orifice burns in searing agony. Why can't I just die, right now? I'm begging, please, let me die. The snow continues to fall lightly around me, and I know it should feel cold, _I_ should feel cold, but it doesn't and I don't. I feel...numb. In shock. Devastated. All my dreams...the big white wedding, my huge house filled with laughing children, as beautiful as both Royce and I...how could he _do_ this, use me, tear me to pieces, rip through me like a knife, and allow his friends to do the same? Not even one at a time, but all at once, and some at once and _why_? Wasn't I enough for him in the end? Couldn't he wait for our wedding night? I let my head fall to the side; a tear trickles off my cheek and into the snow. Oh, God, let me die. I can see that the snow is tinged pink, the exact shade of my favorite roses, and I know it is from me, from my body, my battered, tortured body. And I envy Vera more now than I ever had in life. Even at the end, I am envious. She has it all, the loving husband, showering her with kisses after a hard days work, the bouncing, dark haired baby boy, maybe even more on the way. I have...death, under the street light, alone. My eyes find one of the brass buttons of my jacket, the jacket that was a gift, a token of love from Royce, I stare unblinkingly at it. Ha. He loved me, enough to share me around, give everyone a piece. I breathe out, wanting to be angry, instead feel the pain of the split in my lip, from his friend's fist when I tried to fight. Oh, God, why aren't I dead yet? I should be. The snow is turning a darker shade of pink, it is almost red now. I close my eyes, I have no more energy left for tears; I have nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I hear a noise nearby and stiffen, even though it causes more pain, certain that Royce and his friends have realized I'm not quite dead yet, are back to either finish the job, or have another go at me. I keep my eyes pressed shut, I don't want to see, feeling is enough. I am shocked by the gentle hands on my lip, in my hair, probing into cuts; I whimper in my agony. I open my eyes to see Dr Cullen, and now I am frustrated. I am laying here, my hair and face a mess, and he kneels over me, glaring in his perfection. I feel more myself as I try to frown; I can't stand looking any less than perfect.

And then he held me and I was flying, I must have imagined it was him, because truly, it must be an angel, and finally I am dying, although I thought the pain would stop when they came for me. It can't be much longer though, I must just have to wait another moment or two, and it will all be over...I'll just close my eye.

I feel the warmth and softness as he deposits me on what could only be a cloud. Ah, finally, the pain is receding, thank you God, finally I will die, finally it will be over...

No...more pain, searing, cutting at my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I can't help but scream, so shocked am I, maybe I have gone down instead, maybe my envy has kept me out of Gods house, oh God, please no.

Then fire, and surely it must be hell, because only hell would burn like this. I open my eyes, and I scream, and there is Dr Cullen, staring at me with eyes full of pity, and apology, holding my hand, though I can't feel it, everything burns.

"Kill me, please; I beg you, kill me." I scream again, and again he looks at me sadly, and he apologizes, and I scream.

Mrs. Cullen and her brother, Edward, enter the room and I beg them too, to kill me, I plead and I scream, and they all just look, Mrs. Cullen sad, Edward frowning.

I scream again as I continue to burn, and my lungs are on fire, all of me is on fire. Dr Cullen apologizes again, and tries to tell me something, but I am not listening it is all just burn and fire and pain. He speaks again and I try to listen I truly do. I even close my eyes again. Something about turning me or I would die - did he not understand my pleas for death? - about being vampires, but that is ridiculous, even in this horror I know that can't be true. I realize my screaming isn't helping, so I stop, listen to what Edward is saying to Dr Cullen.

"What were you thinking, Carlisle? Rosalie Hale?" The way he is speaking annoys me, like he doesn't like me. I know I don't like him, he is too handsome, but everyone likes me.

"I couldn't just let her die, it was too much - too horrible, too much waste."

"I know." Edward replies, but he sounds so...disinterested, and that makes me mad again, doesn't he know what they did, those animals, doesn't he _care_ that they tore me apart, used me for their own fun, _left me there to die_?

"It was too much waste. I couldn't leave her." The doctor repeats, and I'm glad that _someone_ at least feels that the loss of my life is a waste. Still, I am burning, and I bite my lip in my pain, desperate to keep listening.

"Of course you couldn't." Mrs. Cullen was agreeing with her husband, and the pain is tenfold, the burning of my body, and the burning of my spirit.

"People die all the time." Edwards voice sounds harsh, uncaring. I could hate him; I know I could, if I wasn't overwhelmed by too much of the fire.

"Don't you think she's just a little recognizable, though? The kings will have to put up a huge search - not that anyone suspects the fiend."

Oh, sweet surprise, they knew. Even the burning retreats slightly for a moment, I can feel the tips of my fingers. They _know_ who it was that did this to me. Oh, joyous moment. Someone knows.

"What are we going to do with her?" Edward sounds disgusted, by the idea of me, or what to do with me, I don't know. Nor do I care. They _know_. That's all I can resister other than the burn, which has left my hands entirely now. I wiggle my fingers.

"That's up to her of course." The doctor was speaking quietly, but every word sounded like it was echoing in my head. "She may want to go her own way."

Oh, no. I don't want to be alone, I _need_ people. Even if it was the Cullen's.

The pain was leaving my arms and legs now, they felt cool, and refreshed, but my torso burns brighter than I thought it ever could. My heart is trying to leap out of my chest in a desperate attempt to flee the coming fire; it and I both instinctively know that my heart will be the flames final destination

I scream again, and again, as the pain enters my chest, centers on my heart which is about to burst, and then....nothing. One final thud and then nothing. My heart stops. Finally. The burning has receded, is present only in my throat now, but in comparison, that is manageable. I open my eyes, see the Cullen's around the room. Mrs. Cullen is holding a small hand mirror, which she passes to me after I sit up. I peer into it at my face.

I believe Dr Cullen now. The face staring back at me is beautiful, more beautiful than any humans could possibly be, with glowing red eyes. I smile at my own beauty, pleased that again I am the most beautiful creature, more beautiful than any of the Cullen's, by far. When I can finally pull myself away from the mirror, I find the Cullen's are still staring at me, and Edward looks even more disgusted. I don't care. Am so happy with the reflection in the mirror, I don't care at all.

It takes me a few minutes, though, to really understand what all this means for me, a few minutes where Dr Cullen explains what I am capable of, as well as what they eat, all about them. I realize the speed; the _power_ the doctor has told me about can help me, allow me revenge, a revenge I am determined to exact.

Hell hath no fury, and all that.


	2. Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Painfully

I read a lot more than I have in my whole life in those few days after Carlisle (he told me to call him that, although it feels strange) turned me. I had to beg the Cullen's to stay a while; they wanted to leave town as soon as I was able, make a fresh start where people wouldn't know me. My reading was very specific; forms of medieval torture that didn't involve the spilling of blood. Those men were going to pay for what they did. But no blood - I've had enough of them inside me, I don't want any more, but I wouldn't be able to resist if it is right in front of me...so I continue to read, make my plans. I know I will save the best for last; Royce. I intend for him to die in screaming agony. I intend for _all_ of them to see exactly who is after them, and scream just because it's me. Edward seems to know my plan, although I have not spoken specific details to anyone, and he has tried to deter me. I _will _follow through with this. I continue with my research.

* * * * *

I take on three of the silly little boys who had no real idea of what they were doing, too drunk to really understand, possibly even remember. It doesn't mean I'll spare them, though. I get them as they leave their club, drunk again. One of them thinks I am part of their imagination, another thinks I am actually still alive, and he seems surprised. The last one is not as drunk as the others, he sees my red eyes, my inhuman beauty, my absolute stillness. He knows what is coming and he is the first to scream. And the first to die. I go easy on these three, slowly snap their necks - slowly so they feel the pain as their lives are snuffed out, and slowly they watch one another die. Well, after the first anyway. I am a bit dramatic - I arrange their bodies very carefully after I am done, lay them out peacefully with their legs crossed. These three are not my true goal, so I can be lenient. John and Royce, however....

* * * * *

John is in the same hotel he has been in since arriving here from the south. I know this because I have watched him and Royce, carefully, since turning. I know I was not the first, nor would I be the last...I even knew he had one silly girl in with him now. I scale the side of the building, shimmying up so fast, no one would even notice. I peer in the window, and see him tear away the blouse of an innocent young woman, blonde like me, who looks terrified. My eyes narrow. I flick the window; it crashes to the floor of the room making a satisfying crashing and crunching sound. I adore my new strength. John looks my way, surprised, and his surprise turns to horror when he sees me properly. His grip on the girl loosens, and she runs; she hasn't even noticed what I look like. Lucky her. John backs away from me, step by step, and I laugh, the sound so beautiful, I see him flinch. I speed past him to lock the door, and then smash the lock - no escape except for the 15 storey window. His eyes grow wider; he knows what I am here for. I scoff.

"Can't drink your own medicine?"

He chokes, then straightens. It's nice to see he will at least _try_ to die like a man, even if he can't live like one. It will make my revenge so much sweeter.

I stroll, casually, to the fireplace, pulling a long piece of iron out from my pants. I prefer a dress; in this case, men's clothing was much more...useful for my plan. I pushed the end of the rod into the flame, careful to keep my distance, and silently thanked all the books I'd read. Poor Edward II - he'd received this from his predilection for men, not really a deserving cause for such a death. John, however....his perversions made this seem like the perfect way to die. I could hear him behind me, his heavy breathing, his slow movements towards the door, then the window...the only way out was death, and he was just realizing that now.

I listen to him only a moment longer, then leave the rod in the fire, allow myself to speed across the room, stand inches from him. He steps back, startled and I smile, catch his arm, throw him face down on the bed. My speed and strength shocks him, he cries out. It won't be the only time tonight. I tear strips from the sheets; tie his limbs to the bed posts. Once I am sure he is going nowhere, I return to the fire, grab the iron rod. I make sure I pass the rod in front of his eyes when I return, throw his own words back at him.

"I'll bet you like it like this."

He screams then, and I haven't even started, but he knows what's coming. I tear his pants off with one hand, exact my revenge slowly. He screams a lot, but no one comes. He should have chosen a hotel less inclined to overlook disgusting tendencies.

* * * * *

I smile to myself, hiding my face behind the newspaper. Edward is glaring at me across the table. I have now come to find he can read minds, so I revisit every moment of my night with John, all the bits they missed in the paper. Edward makes a disgusted sound, leaves the table, and leaves Esme looking confused. I hear him speaking to Carlisle in another of the houses many rooms.

"You were wasting your time, Carlisle."

"You need someone, Edward. And she certainly is beautiful."

"I don't need anyone that badly."

Disgusting. Neither did I. Edward may be exceptionally handsome, but as a husband? Not a chance. Although I am a bit annoyed he didn't agree with Carlisle on how attractive I am. I sniff.

I continue to browse the paper. They found nothing much more than a man tied to a bed, dead. It was going to take a bit to find _cause_ of death, my chosen method left no outward signs. Again I smile. I used to be such a nice person.

Now, I wait until the findings of John's death are announced, and I am certain Royce has read them. I want him to know I am coming.

* * * * *

I follow him, to a windowless room, the door as thick as a bank vault, two armed guards stationing themselves outside. I grin to myself, I can't help it. The naivety, thinking that would stop me. Well, at least it gives me time for preparation. I wait until it is dark, and then roam the streets, trying to remember where the dress shop is, where my wedding dress was waiting for me. My human memories were a bit fuzzy, everything except that last night, and Vera. When I finally do find the shop, I see my dress is no longer there. How disappointing, I did so want him to see me in it, just once, but there is another, that will have to do. I decide to take my theatrics the whole way, steal matching shoes and a huge bouquet of pink roses. I peer at myself in a window as I pass by slowly - every inch the beautiful, blushing bride. Perfect. Time to pay Royce a visit.

Those two poor guards are in for more than they bargained for, but I really can't leave witnesses. I fly around the corner; break both their necks before they even realize I am there. They have done nothing to deserve a drawn out death, and I am sorry. Not enough, apparently.

I give the vault door one good solid kick and watch it tumble to the floor. I position myself carefully, and enter slowly, humming the wedding march, head high, flowers just right. I stop when I see Royce, his face a mask of absolute terror. How nice.

"Darn, I should have brought you a better suit. This will just have to do."

I break off one rose stem; push it carefully into his buttonhole.

"There. The ideal bridegroom. Well, except for the other night, anyway. Did you get a bit impatient? I'm impatient too. I can't wait for you to die of natural causes."

He whimpers. I'm disgusted.

"Come on now, Royce, shouldn't you be kissing me, telling me how sorry you are?"

Another whimper. I sigh.

"Fine. Let's get on with this."

I shove him back into his seat. At least he had the decency to stand when I entered. I stand on his toes, push down. He tries not to cry out, but he is too weak. And I have broken them all. People in the Middle Ages...they really did know how to prolong suffering.

I take his hand carefully in mine, as going through the motions of a wedding ceremony. And squeeze. Another cry.

I spend the night enjoying the sound of his yelling, screaming, cursing. I laugh when he curses me; it's as if he thinks there could be anything worse for me now. It takes a long time to break every bone in a person's body, one by one, without breaking skin. I save his skull for the finale.

And then I go home, to do whatever is the vampire equivalent of crying.


	3. The Face In The Mirror

The face in the mirror is surprising to me now. I used to think, as long as I was beautiful, nothing else would matter. Just as long as I was always the most beautiful one, nothing could go wrong, because who wouldn't envy beauty, lay themselves at the feet of it? Do anything it asks? It has taken death, of a sort, for me to realize what beauty really stands for, or at least what it can cost. Yes, it led to envy, but I'd always thought of envy as a good thing, at least if people were envious of me. In the end, all envy had led me to was a man who didn't love me, who just wanted everyone to see that on his arm was the prettiest girl. Envy had led to despicable acts by said man and friends, envious of what he had. If I was plain, like Vera, people would have looked _inside_. People like Royce and John and their friends would never have noticed me. A man with some depth of character may have seen me, made an effort to see what was underneath, would have been so happy to have me no matter how I looked because I would run his home, bear his children, grow old with him. I cringe even now at what that home would have been like, but surely it would be better than this. It has been 6 long months, and I am still coming to terms with what I have lost. It took me three to realize my normal womanly functions had ceased. Another month before I broached the subject with Carlisle. I will never have children. The only truly _good_ thing I have ever wished for...and now...well, we all pay the price for our sins, in the end. So I blame that face in the mirror. The one that looks so good. I scratch my nails down my face, determined to ruin that perfection. Nothing. I've tried so many times, so many different ways, to destroy it. I've only shied from burning it, because even with all this pain I am still selfish. I want to live. Oh, I know what I am, a monster, but I still want to _exist_. I can even manage resentfulness. I can't stand that Edward doesn't find me attractive. I'm sure Carlisle would, if he didn't adore Esme. Every other male who has glimpsed me ...I've left them all begging in my wake. So I hate this perfect face, but at the same time, I know it is my strongest weapon. The only thing I have left.


	4. New York

Finally, things are picking up. That is not to say I am _happy_ with this life, I never will be, I will forever grieve the loss of the babies I could have born, but to reemerge into society - I never thought that was going to be possible. I have spent all afternoon carefully arranging my hair, and with a final pinch of my cheeks, more out of habit now that it has no real effect, I am ready, and I have to admit stunning. My long evening gown is a beautiful blush pink, my eyes are sparkling with excitement, my blonde hair a cascade of curls around my shoulders, the only disappointment is that my skin will never be anything but pale white, even though I know I will still be the most beautiful woman in the room. We moved only a few weeks ago to a new city, the third since I was turned 2 years past. I had pleaded with Carlisle to move us somewhere we could interact with humans, where we could attend social occasions, almost _live_, so here we were in New York. I had been promised a few months to indulge myself, and then we would be moving again. Right now, I don't care. We are going dancing.

I fairly float down the stairs to where Edward is waiting for me - our ruse for our time here is one of husband and wife. He argued vehemently against that, and I was forced to remind him many humans have unhappy marriages of convenience, it would help us to blend in. Really, I couldn't care less what he thought, I knew he would act his part, and it would add to the envy of others...yes, I still crave jealousy. I am still a shallow, vain creature.

Edward looks perfect. His tailored suit is not a millimeter out of place; his hair sits as perfectly as it always has. The grimace does detract from the look, and I narrow my eyes, but I can't be upset for long. Esme and Carlisle stand near the door, their perfection so glaring they seem like movie stars. I glide to the bottom of the stairs and place my hand delicately on Edwards arm.

"Shall we go _husband_?" I love to taunt him over our roles.

"Rosalie, surely we can save the acting for an audience." I tinkle out a laugh and fairly pull him out the door.

* * * * *

The soft light of the lamps adds a human glow to my features I notice as I glide past the mirrors lining the walls. The man I am dancing with is stumbling over his own feet in awe of my beauty, and every woman in the room has glared at me from the moment I entered and their husbands began vying for my affection. I toss my hair, laugh my beautiful laugh and watch gleefully as everyone stares at me. I am in my element. The only pair of eyes that haven't looked my way all night are Edwards, an irritating detail. I flick my hair again as we pass him, notice him turn his head pointedly in the other direction. I cringe slightly, eliciting a stream of profuse apologies from the man with me, who thinks he has trodden on my foot. He may have, but compared to me he is so weak, it would be the equivalent of a fly, I wouldn't even notice. He is tapped on the shoulder by yet another man, I have lost count how many there have been tonight. This one is tall, extraordinarily handsome, as human men go, and obviously rich - just the kind of man I would have married. Someone just like Royce. A very low growl erupts from my throat, surprising me. Fortunately, it is so low, and the babble of noise so loud, the man doesn't notice. I smile wider; see the slightly shocked expression on his face. Maybe a bit too wide. He spins me around the room, gracefully; I enjoy the feeling, until my eyes are drawn like a moth to the flame to a head of dark curly hair, barely visible through the crowd. I lose my concentration, miss a breath, and notice Edward looking at me for the firs time. It is not a tender look though, more like he is considering whether or not it is time for us to leave. He goes with the middle ground, striding purposefully toward my dancing partner to tap his shoulder.

"May I cut in? I haven't danced with my wife all evening." Only I catch the slight edge of sarcasm to the word 'wife'. The other man looks perturbed, but cordially agrees, withdrawing to stare at me from the wall. Edward places one arm at my waist, the other in my hand and twirls me around the floor, speaking in a rapid undertone.

"What was that about?"

I raise an eyebrow at him, as if I don't know what he means.

"Don't be smart Rosalie. What was with the hair, and a baby? I'm confused. And more than a little concerned."

Thoughts of Vera, of her baby, flood my mind before I have a chance to stop them. Understanding dawns on Edwards features.

"Oh. So you do have some sort of heart, Rosalie, albeit still a selfish one."

I squeeze with the hand on his shoulder. He doesn't even flinch.

"I have no intention of discussing this with you, Edward Masen."

A smile. Shock, Edward can smile. I don't recall seeing him smile once since I joined the Cullens.

"Don't do anything foolish, Rosalie. If you expose us, our time here will be over all the faster."

He fought dirty. I most certainly don't want to leave here any earlier than I have to. I nod, gritting my teeth. The music ends, Edward relinquishes me to another dancing partner. But I am still haunted, still searching for that head of dark, curly hair.


	5. Bloodlust

**Rosalie**

For weeks I have traipsed around New York in the quiet hours of the night, on the rainy days. I have shied from even thinking about why I do it when I am home, because then Edward will know, but when I am wandering on my own, I am searching. Searching for the dark, curly hair I spotted while dancing. Occasionally I pause; I see something dark, but it is never what I am looking for. I know it is an obsession, but one I can't seem to throw. I crave it, I'm addicted, I need it. For weeks I have gone on like this and the Cullen's know _something_ is going on, but there is no way I would ever discuss it. Eventually I need sustenance; the scent of human blood is becoming a temptation too strong to ignore. I run, into the trees, as far from civilization as I can before I let my instincts overwhelm me. I have barely time to fix on the scent of challenge, a bear, when I smell human blood and I am drawn in. I can't help it; I know I will fail now. Never before have I allowed myself to taste human blood but the monster is in the forefront, and the smell is so intoxicating....I fly to it. And I am drawn to a shocked halt at the edge of a clearing. There is my bear, enormous and warm, but my eyes hardly even notice. Lying under his feet is the focus of my attention. A man, enormous, almost as big as the bear itself, covered in sweet, warm blood. I don't pounce though, I am drawn to his hair, the exact shade and texture of Vera's little boy, the same hair I have been hunting. And he is dying. It can't happen, I can't let it. I slowly step towards him; I am worried if I come upon him too quickly what little that is left of his life will vanish. Carefully, I pull him into my arms; huge brown eyes flicker open to focus groggily on me.

"I'm dead." He murmurs. If I could cry, I would.

"No...I promise I won't let that happen."

"I'm dead, and you are the most beautiful angel I have ever seen."

I laugh at that, I can't help it. I am so far from an angel...if only he knew. He will soon enough.

**Emmett**

I thought I could take him. I mean, really, what is some puny bear to my strength? A lot more than I guessed, apparently. Well, what a way to die. The sky is such a beautiful blue above me...I wish I had of paid more attention to the sky before. Now...it's too late for sky. And I'm getting tired. I barely close my eyes before I hear gentle footsteps. I want to see what it is, but my eyelids refuse to cooperate. Instead I listen as the steps grow closer, then a sharp intake of very painful breath as I am lifted into someone's arms. Very small arms. I force my eyes open against the lead weights holding them down. An angel.

"I'm dead." I must be. No human could look like this.

"No, I promise, I won't let that happen." She looks sad. I wonder why. I'm not that much of a loss to the human race. At least to my family. I don't fit their image of a perfect city gentleman.

"I'm dead, and you are the most beautiful angel I have ever seen." The angel laughs at me, it's like the singing of happy birds, as beautiful as the rest of her.

I let my eyes fall closed again; it is too much effort to keep them open. She will be there in the end; she is an angel after all. I feel the wind whip around us and I know I am right. We are flying.

**Rosalie**

I flew up the stairs, still holding the man in my arms, found Carlisle in his office.

"I need your help, Carlisle."

He raises his eyes from the book he is studying to gaze at me curiously. Only for a moment.

"Rosalie, what have you done?"

I scoff. Of course _I_ must have done it, renegade vampire that I am. I don't have time for this nonsense.

"He was attacked by a bear. I need you to turn him, Carlisle."

He doesn't look happy.

"Why, Rosalie? You have told me again and again I should have let you die, why would this man be any different?"

I don't want to answer. I really don't. But if I withhold my reasons, Carlisle will refuse, and I can't bear that.

"I need him, Carlisle."

He looks at me, questioningly. "What about Edward?"

"Edward?" I'm actually amazed. "You think Edward and me..." I shake off my surprise. "Please Carlisle." By now Esme and Edward have joined us, and Carlisle turns to them.

"She does need someone, Carlisle. It must be lonely...and he is dying." Thank you Esme.

I glare at Edward now, daring him to argue. He looks at me thoughtfully.

"I think you should." I nod my thanks, and look back at Carlisle, who now seems unsure, but determined.

"Ok. The only space we have ready, though, is the dining table. Take him there."

I run out of the room, notice Esme covering her nose as I pass, down the stairs and deposit the man on the table gently. Carlisle quickly follows, and nips at his ankles, wrists, throat, just as he did with me. I pull a chair up next to the table, gently stroke the dark hair. Now we wait.

**Emmett**

Just as I am sure it is all ending, then it really begins. Who knew dying would be so painful? I always thought of it as peaceful. I guess not when you're ripped apart by a bear. Aside from the burning agony, I can feel a cool hand in my hair, soft murmurs in my ear. My angel hasn't left me. I can cope with the pain, knowing that. I lay there, feeling the burn.

**Rosalie**

Another day dawns. This makes three days since I brought this human home, and still he is silent, and still I recall the agony of being turned. I say nothing of what he is becoming; my fear that he will hate me is too great. Instead, I continue to stroke his hair, murmur platitudes in his ear.

At the moment the sun reaches its zenith, I look down to find a pair of bright red eyes focused on my face.

"Wow. I thought you were beautiful before..."

His voice was perfect, a deeper bell tone, slightly husky. My thoughts were interrupted by Carlisle.

"Do you mind if I squeeze in there, Rosalie?"

"Rosalie..." the man on the table speaks so softly, like a caress. My skin hasn't tingled so much in...forever. I step back, allow Carlisle to make sure everything is all right. And to let him explain.

**Emmett**

Rosalie. The angels name is Rosalie. Perfect. I know I need to concentrate on the blond man, who seems like some kind of movie star, though he says he is a doctor. He is saying something about...vampires? I am a vampire now, Rosalie is a vampire? Hmm. They must be mad. Well, doesn't that just bite. I chuckle inwardly at my own joke. He grabs a small hand mirror, something a woman would use, holds it up to my face. Holy mother. My eyes are red. Not some dull red, faded...no, bright red. And my skin is sparkling in the light through the window. I see every grain in the mirrors surface. Shock. I need some time to digest this. With my angel of course. I look at her again. Forever with her? Definitely worth it.

**Rosalie**

I keep watching his face. He doesn't _look_ horrified, but maybe it is still building? Carlisle tells him he will be this way forever and his eyes turn to me. I shiver. Forever with this man. Could I really be so lucky? He nods at Carlisle, who then leaves the room. I inch toward the table.

"Rosalie. I like it."

I snort. "Gee, I'm very glad you approve."

He laughs, deep and...sensual?

"My name is Emmett. Emmett...well, that doesn't matter anymore does it?"

Emmett. Perfect. He looks just like an Emmett.

"Why did you bring me here? I'm not complaining, the strength to take down anything? That bear is going to pay. I'm just curious."

Now how do I answer that? You remind me of a baby I once knew? No. Not an appropriate answer.

"I needed you." Well, that just slipped out. I think it is true though.

"You know what?" he had an expression on his face I couldn't place. "I think I needed you too."


	6. Not Quite A Shotgun Wedding

We are married within weeks. I like to believe it is true love or something of the sort, but I think it has more to do with why most marriages take place...we can't keep our hands off each other. Even though we know there is no way we will end up requiring a shotgun wedding...it is just the way we have both been raised. Marriage before sex. So marriage it is.

I wear a stunning ivory gown; ivory, because I feel white is no longer appropriate. Emmett looks, well, edible is the most appropriate word. Definitely edible. He has the broadest shoulders and chest I think I have ever seen. Our parlor is covered in a myriad of ivory roses; I can't bear to have the pink that were once in my wedding fantasies. We marry on the stroke of midnight, which I think is absolutely terrifying for the father who performs the ceremony, but you throw enough money at a person, and they will do pretty much anything. Thank you for that lesson, Royce.

The rest of the Cullen's disappear the moment the ceremony is concluded, they know us well already. We have no desire for a reception. Straight to the honeymoon.

Emmett scoops me up into his enormous arms, and with his new vampire speed has me upstairs and into our magnificent four poster bed before I can blink.

Another split second and he has shredded his suit. I refuse to allow such speed with my dress, however desperate I am. I intend on preserving it. He makes a fumbling attempt to undo the buttons on the back, begging me, after undoing the first 4, to allow him to just rip the rest away. A stern no, and I have them all undone myself, to stand proud and glorious before him in my suspenders, garter and slip.

Emmett roars, sounding remarkably like the bear that led him to me, and leaps, dragging me with him on his flight to the bed which promptly smashes. We're too busy pulling and pushing and grabbing to even notice.

Emmett proves to be big in every possible way, and my hands gravitate towards him. I'm not much in the mood for foreplay, and I have him positioned and impaled before he has even half raised my slip. So he just rips it. Fortunately for the rest of my garments, they manage to stay intact, but barely. We are writhing and flailing with such ferocity the remnants of the broken bed are being ground to dust. Emmett, desperate to push further into me, shoves me against the wall, leaving an enormous dent, and I laugh, I scream, I cry...I have found everything I could want in every possible way with this man. There is no gentleness, which I am thankful for, I don't want gentleness, I want savagery. I want my hair pulled, my skin to be torn and bleeding; in point of fact I want a caveman who will bludgeon me and drag me off to have his way with me. Which is precisely the kind of man Emmett is. Someone I can trust, who can give me the rough release I desire. Our efforts send us crashing through the wall and yelling our relief.

The next day is spent repairing our damage. And creating a new mess. We are left to ourselves for an entire week, repeating this process countless times.


	7. The Bird Arrives

A sharp tap on the front door interrupts yet another 'Rosalie and Emmett private moment'. The rest of the family are off hunting, although I believe it is the noise that tends to drive them away more than the need for sustenance. I have truly tried to be quiet, but screaming is just a part of the excitement for me, therefore impossible to go without. That annoying, insistent tapping is interrupting a good scream right now. No matter how I try to focus on the matter at hand (well, Emmett isn't exactly _in my hand_, but that is beside the point) the tapping refuses to stop. I grit my teeth, pull my negligee down over my bare skin, and stomp to the door.

The open door reveals two people, obviously vampires, and one of them a vegetarian, the other...a newborn? Or a new vegetarian? His eyes are an odd orange shade. The little one, the female, starts to speak, so I return my gaze to her.

She is tiny, not even reaching my shoulder, and she has dark hair standing in tufts around her small face.

"Rosalie!"

"Pardon me? Do I know you?"

"Not yet. I'm Alice, and this is Jasper."

"Ma'am." The male dips his head in my direction. I look at him closely. He's quite tall; he looks almost comical next to elfin girl. Very handsome, the kind of man I would have admired when I was human. I narrow my eyes at his southern drawl, though.

"Was there something you wanted? The Cullen's are out at present."

"Yes, I know." The girl chirps. Literally chirps. She sounds like a singing bird.

"Well...can I help you with something in their stead?"

"Sure. Can you help me with these bags?"

I peer over her shoulder at the line of suitcases behind them, raise one eyebrow.

"It looks like you're moving in."

"Yes."

"Sorry, but I thought you just said 'yes'."

"I did."

I was still standing in the doorway, trying to understand what was happening when Emmett bumped down the staircase.

"Rose, what's taking you so long?"

Seems he hadn't bothered to put half his clothes back on. The girl, Alice, was peeping around my arm, a huge grin on her tiny face. The man with her, Jasper, stood unmoving, almost unseeing, gazing straight ahead into the distance.

"Ho, who's this?" I turned to watch as Emmett pulled his suspenders over his massive bare chest.

"Hi! You must be Emmett. I'm Alice." She slipped under my arm, right through the door, to stand on her tiptoes and hug a very surprised Emmett.

"And apparently this is Jasper." I snarl on the final word, and step back. If Alice has already allowed herself entry, might as well make it a full house.

Emmett gives Jasper a welcoming pat on the back that sets him stumbling. And brings the first iota of emotion I have seen to his face.

"You have quite an arm."

Emmett flexed his muscles. Something he was very proud of. There are two ways into Emmett's heart. Sex and admiration for his strength.

"That I do."

"How about an arm wrestle. I think I could win, with a bit of a warning."

A familiar gleam entered Emmett's eye. "You're on."

"First the bags!" I'd forgotten about Alice. "The big room up the back, with the nice view over the trees."

Edwards room. She was moving herself into Edwards room. Hmm. Maybe this idea could prove to be interesting.

* * * * *

Alice and I sat in the lounge, waiting for the Cullen's return. Emmett and Jasper had moved all of Edwards belongings into the garage, replaced it all with the bags Alice and Jasper had brought along. I smiled serenely, eager to see the look on Edwards face. The front door opened softly, followed by two steps of footsteps. I rose from my seat, crossed the room to welcome Esme and Carlisle home. And to introduce them to our newest addition.

"Esme, Carlisle. This is Alice."

Hand shakes all around before getting to the point. "I hope you don't mind me moving in."

Esme and Alice seem as surprised as I was, but both of them recover remarkably quickly. Esme smiles happily. "Why not? The more the merrier." She looked at Carlisle hopefully.

"I agree. You're welcome to stay, as long as you like."

Alice squeals, delighted.

"Let me get Jasper, he'd like to meet you too."

She dances from the room.

"Jasper?" Carlisle looks at me, curious.

"Her mate, I believe." I shrug.

Alice returns in moments, pulling Jasper along behind her. Emmett follows, grinning and flexing his still bare muscles.

"Next time." Jasper throws at him, under his breath.

Esme smiles, thrilled, and kisses Jasper on the cheek. "Welcome to the family." Jasper gazes into the distance again.

"Ah. You really are so...happy. All of you." His orange eyes turned to me. "With the possible exception of you. I can't quite figure you out."

Carlisle's eyes bore into Jasper, excitement evident in his features. "You have a gift?"

Jasper nods, seeming very uncomfortable. "I can..._feel_ emotions. Alice's talent, however, is much more interesting than mine."

Carlisle could barely contain himself. "Alice? You have a gift also?"

"Yes." She chirps. "I can see things, things that are going to happen. I saw Jasper, and I saw all of you. I saw this is where we are meant to be."

A very long night followed, with Carlisle drilling Alice and Jasper for every detail of their gifts. Edward returned with the dawn. Jasper caught my eye from across the room; he must have caught wind of the thrill that passed through me, knowing what was coming. Edward looked at me also when he entered the room. The laughter in my head must have been louder than I expected. His gaze was drawn to the new thoughts next, and his mouth turned up at the corners.

Alice danced across the room. "Edward! Sorry we took your room, it had the best view. Oh, I'm Alice by the way, that is Jasper."

H nodded still smiling.

"My newest sister? Nice to meet you. I guess I had better find a new home for my belongings."

And our family expanded again. Though with less fan fare than I had hoped for.


	8. An Irritation, Nothing More

Another move, after a few years in Alaska. Less time than we may normally spend in one place, but it seems Tanya has a crush on Edward; one he certainly doesn't reciprocate. Of course. I mean, if _I_ don't get to him, Tanya certainly wouldn't.

I earn a sigh and an eye roll for that thought.

Our latest destination; Forks. We've been there once before - it is a nightmare of a place to live. No nightlife, constant rain. I suppose I should be thankful for the fact that we can leave the house without drawing any attention, other than what I normally would, but I worry about what it will do to my hair.

I can't complain about the living conditions; our Forks home is one of the nicest, with huge windows that let the light in, far enough away from anyone that we can actually enjoy it. Right on the edge of woods teeming with animal life. But still, it's Forks. What could happen of any interest there?

Nothing. Nothing for two years. Of course, all the boys admire me, as well they should, and all the girls hate me, that's also expected. The big surprise comes mid semester. The _new girl_. For once the whole school buzzes about someone other than us, well, me in particular; I can't stand it. I _like_ knowing all the children here want me or wish they were me, even though I give them zero encouragement. But now...I listen carefully to the voices around me. Most of the seniors' interest dies out fairly quickly, especially when I make the concerted effort to smile at a few of the guys in my classes. The juniors however are a different story. I'll deal with them later. I sit at the table with my other siblings, marveling at the fact that all the other girls in this school need to cake on the make up and flirt outrageously to get attention, when all I have to do is look at someone, and they're mine. If I want them. I catch sight of my self in the reflection off someone's glasses Yep, Perfection. Edward rolls his eyes.

_Hey, if you don't want to know, don't listen_.

I run one hand playfully over Emmett's brawn. I can tell he is distracted, losing that arm wrestle against Jasper last night...I send him a mischievous grin, thinking about what I will do later to make him feel better.

Edward doesn't notice. "Jessica Stanley is giving the new Swan girl all the dirty laundry on the Cullen clan."

I twist slightly in my chair, trying to get a good view of myself from _somewhere_. I've had enough of that girl for one day. Instead I catch sight of Edward, positively _gawking_ at the new girl. I frown slightly; of course it doesn't mar my perfect features.

"Shall we?" I ask, irritated.

Finally, Edwards attention moved away from the insipid girl.

"So is the new one afraid of us yet?" Edward shrugged and Emmett returned to his musing. I rise gracefully, finished with the ridiculousness that is _Isabella Swan_.

* * * * *

This might be the first time I had ever had to wait for Edward, but I was still annoyed. I couldn't wait to get away from this school, from everyone's obsession with the new girl. Finally, he stalks to the car, a murderous expression on his face, fury radiating off him. He tears out of the parking lot with less finesse than he usually shows, and I turn questioningly to Alice, as do Emmett and Jasper. She ignores us.

"You're leaving?"

I turn to stare at Edward, my mind screaming questions.

"Am I?"

"Oh. Oh..." Occasionally I envy Alice, when I am one of the last to find out what is going on.

"Stop!" Edward groans.

"Sorry...I'll miss you, no matter how short a time you're gone."

I glance over at Emmett, unsure.

"Drop us here." Alice instructed him. "You should tell Carlisle yourself."

We were at the entrance to our driveway. Emmett, Jasper and I slipped out, leaving Alice with Edward for the moment, but only for a moment. As soon as he drives away, I plan on grilling her. She slides gracefully from the car, a worried expression on her face, and stands silently as Edward pulls away. Jasper glides over to her, catching her hand.

"Alice?" I can't wait another moment.

"He has to leave."

I growl in frustration. "That much is obvious; the why of it is the bigger issue."

I feel Emmett move behind me, holding my shoulders.

"He..." I can't say I've ever seen our chirpy bird lost for words. "He wants to kill her."

I let out a huge breath of air. "So? So he does, and we leave this boring place. Big deal. I still don't get what all the drama is about." I start running towards home, more hopeful than I have felt in a while.

**So, finally, Twilight DVD comes out here in Oz today...meaning I probably won't post anything for a couple of days. I won't be long, I just have to get my fill of Edward....ah....**


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